


the most important meal

by sovietghoststories (lucid_lies)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Counter Sex, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, F/M, Female Ejaculation, Kitchen Sex, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 06:54:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17678591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucid_lies/pseuds/sovietghoststories
Summary: The reader is just trying to make breakfast but Bucky has other ideas of what he wants to eat.





	the most important meal

It’s early Sunday morning. The sun sits low on the horizon, a fiery disc that spills golden light across the floor. The sounds of daily life are muted, far away and foggy with sleep. For a city that never sleeps, New York is surprisingly quiet when brushstrokes of colour chase away the velvet sky, the lifeblood flowing through its citizens sluggish and mellow.   
  
Normally, Y/N wouldn’t be caught dead awake at this hour. She doesn’t know how some people (namely Steve) get themselves up when the world is still cold and dark let alone go  _running_. It’s heinous and practically criminal that someone has that much energy so early. She’s never fully awake before 11 and that’s after she’s guzzled down so much caffeine she’s practically vibrating. 

The most the others hope for is barely intelligible grunts and dispassionate glares. They’re lucky if they even see her migrate from the bed to the couch. She’s a slow riser, lounging around while her mind and body slowly reboot. In this line of work, that’s not necessarily a good thing. 

You’ve always gotta be raring and ready to go at the drop of a hat whereas she’s more likely to take her sweet ass time. It’s only a matter of time before that bites her in the ass, but as of right now, live and let live.   
  
Mornings are an absolute bitch. 

She hates the half-drunken awareness, the sour taste on the back of her tongue, the sticky sweat, how overwhelmingly bright everything is. There’s only one person in this life and the next Y/N would ever consider waking up early for: James “Bucky” Buchanan Barnes.   
  
The bastard’s got her so whipped and he knows it. Downright twitterpated.      
  
He’s got the kind of face that makes smart girls dumb; depthless eyes, a jawline she could nibble on for days, and lips that are as nice to kiss as they are talented. She used to make fun of girls for being so gone on a guy. Now she’s one of them. It seems only fair, she made some real nasty comments. Another thing that came back to bite her in the ass.   
  
The deep well of love she holds for a stupid, beautiful, stubborn, charming patchwork man is what has her up at 7 AM, trying to flip pancakes (rather unsuccessfully) and avoid getting burned by bacon grease. 

The radio plays softly in the background. She hums along as she wiggles around the kitchen, the soft cotton of her shirt barely covering the swell of her nude bottom. It’s well worn, nearly threadbare and doing nothing to hide the peaks of her nipples or the tender space between her thighs. 

She might as well have been wearing nothing but nothing beats out being able to tuck her head into her shoulder and inhale, the faintest traces of Bucky’s cologne lingering in the fibres.   
  
It’s entirely too small for the ex-assassin and barely fits her, and yet he can’t bring himself to throw it away even though he keeps saying he will. He loves seeing her in his clothes as much as she loves stealing them. His eyes go soft and hungry every time she prances around in the too big shirts. It’s not long before his hands replace his gaze.   
  
She teases, he reacts. The game between them a constant push and pull. She’s never been so brazen before, as good as naked in the common area but fuck it, why not. She doesn’t have to worry about anyone else besides Bucky seeing her. The rest of the Avengers are off on some mission or something. 

Upping the ante as it were.   
  
It would be a lie to say the thought of someone catching them, no matter how improbable it is, gets her blood pumping. A spike of arousal shoots through her every time she imagines getting caught bent over the counter, stuffed full of Bucky’s cock. All she’d be able to do is moan, his firm hands keeping her pinned. His thrusts wouldn’t falter, wouldn’t stop. He’d fuck an orgasm right out of her in front of one of their friends and she’d be ashamed with how much she  ~~loves~~  likes it.   
  
Especially if it is Steve who catches them; those big, strong hands and wide baby blues, his cock a hard line in his pants. Bucky pressing against her back, his chin hooked over her shoulder as his lips dance along her cheekbone. 

_“Come on, Stevie, let’s have some fun.”_    
  
Y/N shivers, thighs tensing with every throb of her needy cunt. As hot as that sounds, that’s a whole other fantasy to unpack another day. She can’t imagine Bucky would mind bringing the Captain into the mix but they haven’t broached that particular topic yet. All in good time, she hopes.   
  
As for now, she refocuses on the task at hand, cursing at the blackened bottom of a pancake. That’s what she gets for getting too wrapped up in her head. It gets dumped on a separate plate (hers, Bucky gets the pretty ones) and turns around to grab more batter when she runs into a solid wall of muscle.   
  
Forearms of steel wrap around her waist, tugging her firmly into the curve of Bucky’s body. They’re pressed together from chest to hip, a thick thigh wedging itself between hers. Fingertips inch beneath her shirt, caressing the side of her ribcage. Low slung sweats cling to his trim hips, his erection obvious to see.   
  
“Morning, Darlin’.”  
  
His voice is rough and low, raspy with sleep. Y/N swallows roughly.  
  
“Good morning, Baby,” she murmurs, standing on her tip toes to kiss his nose. “How did you sleep.”   
  
A sigh ruffles the hair of her crown as the man rests his chin on top of her head. His skin is hot beneath her palms. His arms tighten around her, cheeky fingers brushing the underside of her breast. “Mm,” The grind of his hips, languid and loose, follows the question, “I had the best dreams.”

He throbs hot and heavy against her hip. 

She laughs, a breathless thing that escapes more like a sigh. “I can see that.”   
  
“Come on, Baby, help a guy out?” Bucky peppers kisses along the length of her neck, circling her nipple with his thumb. His knee presses against her tender cunt, spreading the slick, swollen flesh. “Fuck, I can feel you through my pants, Sweetheart.”   
  
“Bucky.” Y/N’s fingers dig into the broadness of his shoulders.  His dark mane of hair brushes the tops of her hands, messy and soft. The urge to yank on it is strong, and she just barely resists. Pleasure sings in her blood as she soaks the fabric covering his legs, clit throbbing. A needy desperation starts to well deep within her core. She longs for the bite of his teeth, the snap of his hips, the roughness of his grip. But. ”I just finished making breakfast…” 

Pouting, she stares up at him. 

A tender expression softens the lines of his face but does nothing to dampen the desire hidden just beneath the surface. There’s a raging tempest in his eyes, ravenous, promising sweat slick pleasure that’ll leave her weak-kneed and pumped full of his cum.   
  
He’s voracious when he wants to be. She loves every minute of it, can’t get enough in fact.   
  
“I know, Doll, and I appreciate all the effort.” His eyes are earnest, aflame with craven desires. “But I’d rather eat you out. Please let me.”  
  
She smirks.   
  
 _Well, how’s a girl supposed to say no to a face like that?_

She’s barely got the words out before she finds herself flat on her back, unyielding palms spreading her thighs and holding her open. His breath comes short and fast, puffing over her sensitive flesh. Her clit throbs in response. A low, agonized groan escapes the man on his knees. 

“Just look at this pretty little pussy of yours,” he whispers reverently, sounding utterly wrecked as his thumbs stroke down the length of her nether lips, spreading the wetness found there. “Can’t wait till I get my mouth on you.”   
  
“F-Fuck, Bucky, you can’t say shit like that.” 

She whimpers, head smacking against the granite. His hungry gaze is a physical touch, taking in every inch of her wet slit. 

He flicks her clit, tone challenging as he demands, “Why not?”   
  
“Because - Because, you just can’t okay?” Her heart feels like it’s about to pop out of her chest. There’s no doubt about it; Bucky Barnes is going to be the death of her.   
  
“I think you don’t want me talkin’ like that cause you like it.” She hears the smirk in his voice. Smug bastard. “Don’t you, Baby?”   
  
“I –” The words die on her tongue, a loud, sloppy lick from her entrance to her clit shutting her up. Instead, a high pitched whine escapes, her back arching. “Oh, God.”   
  
Bucky smacks his lips and hums low in his throat. “That’s it, Sweetheart, let me hear you.” He wraps his forearms under her thighs, keeping her from squirming off the counter as his fingers hold open her cunt. His dark head dips back down, lips wrapping around her swollen pearl and sucking. His hair brushes the soft underside of her belly, the sensations making her hyper-aware of everything he’s doing.   
  
“That’s so - fuck,” she pants, hand scrambling for something to hold on to, hips jerking beneath his palms. “Bucky!”   
  
The wild movements almost knock him away. He grunts in displeasure. The ex-assassin bites down on her cunt in warning, gentle enough so the skin doesn’t break but firm enough to get his message across. Right now, he’s in no mood to indulge her silly little games; a predator feasting on his prey.   
  
Nails dig into his scalp. He moans, lashing his tongue against her throbbing clit. His nose brushes the top of her slit, the scent of her warm and ready heavy in his nose, the honey of her cunt thick on his tongue. Her fluids wet his cheeks, dripping from his chin. His tongue never stops chasing every drop. 

Before long, all she can do is cry out above him, chest pointed towards the ceiling as his tongue fucks deep into her entrance. The alternation between firm licks and gentle sucks as her toes curling. She can’t stop the roll of her hips. Every stretch of her pussy has liquid fire pumping through her veins. 

In no time at all, Bucky is going to have her violently, explosively cumming on his tongue. 

“Give it to me, Sweetheart,” he murmurs into her slick flesh. “Wanna feel this pretty pussy cum all over me.”   
  
She gasps. “Buck, I’m - please, don’t stop.” Her thighs clench around his head, biting her lip to hold in the scream threatening to break free. “Fuck, please, I’m almost there.”   
  
The words spurr him on. 

With renewed enthusiasm, Bucky twirls his tongue across the top of her slit, playing with the hood of her clit. His chin grinds against her soaked entrance, the dual sensations stoking the fire in her gut until it’s a blazing inferno about to swallow her whole.   
  
“That’s it, come on,” Bucky says, coaxing out every ounce of pleasure he can. “I’ve got you, Doll. Cum for me.” 

All it takes is one last talented pulse of his tongue. Her orgasm rips from her with a loud, keening cry. Her back arches so high her spine might snap, and slick gushes from her in a flood. Trembling thighs are soaked, her heart slamming against her ribs. 

“F-Fuck…”  
  
Collapsing against the cool stone and panting hard, Y/N pushes away the hair sticking to her face and gazes down the length of her body to see Bucky kneeling between her splayed legs. The lower half of his face is soaked with cum and drool. He lost the sweat pants at some point, his cock hard and wanting, the tip weeping precum.   
  
His eyes are what do her in, hot and hungry and  _awe-filled_. 

 "I can’t believe my best girl’s a gusher.“ Those sinful lips part, his tongue gathering up any juices clinging to his lips. A rough moan rumbles from his throat. "How’d a fella like me get so lucky?"   
  
A weak laugh escapes her, and she thinks, not for the first time, that she’s the lucky one.


End file.
